Is there a more covetable free agent than Tom Hicks Jr, Liverpool's smutty Marie Antoinette, whose "let them eat cock" email surely marks him out as this transfer window's breakout star? Strictly speaking, of course, Tom Jr was not placing himself in the shop window when he penned his Algonquin-inspired rejoinder to the Liverpool supporter, but now that he has experienced a sudden freeing up of time, there must be a rush to secure his services.

There may be those among you scratching your head at this juncture, wondering what sort of work Tom is possibly equipped for, bar moonlighting as an Austin Reed mannequin (it's something about the hair, the way he drapes the scarf, and his easy way with outerwear). That dismissive attitude is a failure of imagination on your part.

Within the world of leveraged buyouts Tom's daddy has made his speciality, a key text is the business manual Who Moved My Cheese? For the uninitiated, Who Moved My Cheese? is essentially a parable of how to cope with a major change in your work life – ie getting sacked – and in corporate America it is often distributed thoughtfully to employees during periods of structural reorganisation – ie minutes before they are informed their desk is in the lift. In accordance with its teachings, Tom Jr should not see his downsizing as a setback. Rather, he should judge it an opportunity to adapt his … talents, I suppose you'd call them, to any number of current openings for which his vogueish "blow me, fuck face" catchphrase would equip him.

American Idol will soon be in need of a new judge, certainly, while it has been far too long since anyone left the sort of obscene message on Andrew Sachs's answerphone that could galvanise Britain to shake off snow-paralysis and get back to doing what it does best: calling complaints hotlines. Failing that, it was only last week that we were examining plans to increase police powers for the London Olympics, and there seems no reason that Tom Jr should not serve as the prototype for a new, futuristic robot force to police the games. In a simplification of Robocop's four directives, the Hicks-inspired 2012 justice units would simply dispense a mechanical BMFF before dispatching non-cheerleaders.

For all the obvious benefits to humanity of the above, though, it would be the most shameful waste were any new employment direction to lead Tom Jr away from the arena he knows best: football. The good news is that the Premier League appears to seek a diplomat with special responsibility for Africa. With so many unofficial authorities on the continent emerging in the wake of the attack on the Togo team in Angola – couldn't Phil Brown have gone the whole hog and deployed the styling "the dark continent"? – the search is on for someone who could distil the nuanced judgment of the Hull manager and others into a foreign policy position that will see the league not simply through the rest of the Cup of Nations, but the World Cup too. Justifying any comment by an unapologetically protectionist consortium of commercial interests about "naive" security arrangements – or, come to that, about "naive defending" – is this not a job for Hicks and the trusty BMFF?

Failing that, Old Trafford seeks a lightning rod. Recent revelations from Manchester United may well have left the piggy-bank-raiding Glazer progeny looking for something to throw them into sympathetic relief, and who better than the scion of another football-crazy American family? At present, Tom Jr would simply be charged with responding to the Glazers' postbag, though if the feared sale of the Carrington training complex to a holding company went through, allowing it to be leased back to the club, he would already be in place to respond to any complaints United's chief executive, David Gill, might have about rental costs with an even better-honed BMFF.

Then again, the post of Fratton Park cashier might tempt. Having failed three times this season to meet deadlines to pay their players, most recently last week, Portsmouth executives must be tiring of having to placate concerned employees, a burden that could be eliminated by simply installing Tom Jr in the club's accounts office behind a sign reading "You don't have to BMFF to work here – but it helps!"

If none of those grabs, you can be sure that other opportunities will present themselves to our alluring free agent. Tom Jr's is the skillset most suited to these uncertain times in football and elsewhere, and by now you should realise that your failure to accept that will only earn you that least enticing of invitations.